


Found

by neonsign



Category: Persona 3
Genre: Character Study, Depression, Established Relationship, F/F, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2016-01-23
Packaged: 2018-05-12 15:12:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5670451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neonsign/pseuds/neonsign
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There’s a Lost girl that’s been hanging around outside the dorm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

There’s a Lost girl that’s been hanging around outside the dorm. She sits on the ground against the fence that runs along the shrubs. With the full moon approaching the Lost are everywhere, but this one keeps coming back and she’s a little worse every time. She’d been there during the last full moon too, but that time she’d been at least semi-capable of forming words. Now her laboured breathing is the only sign she’s not dead.

Minato sits on the front steps, hands wrapped around a cup of coffee as he watches her. The steam curls up, warming his face and the underside of his jaw. There’s nothing in her dull eyes. She’s just staring somewhere across the road with her mouth hanging open. Minato takes a small sip of coffee.

“You’re creeping everyone out, you know,” he tells her, looking down at his feet. There’s a flier trapped under his shoe so he reaches down to pick it up. “They think you’re weird.”

It’s for some local bands he’s never heard of before, playing at some small club. He gets handed these sometimes by people with piercings dotting their faces because messy blue hair makes them think he looks like one of them. The kind of person who goes to these shows.

“That doesn’t even bother you, does it?”

A distant shout catches his attention and he looks across the street at a loud group of teenagers walking together. They’re laughing, teasing one of their number, but he’s laughing too. From watching people in school, Minato’s noticed there are friends do that. Somehow, it’s different than the bullying he’s seen over the years and done nothing about. ‘All in good fun,’ people always say.

“Maybe they’re right. You’re not how people are supposed to be. They’re supposed to laugh and cry and get mad and…”

Those teens across the road – people his age, people he should be able to relate to – they look like the kinds of people who would go to one of those shows.

It’s not that Minato’s not. He’s heard some good unsigned bands before, but he’s never been to see any play. Not for lack of interest, but more a lack of friends. Showing up alone is embarrassing and even if he did, being surrounded by loud and screaming people, pressed in close and sweating together – there are few things he hates more than Tartarus but that would be one of them.

“You ever go to concerts and stuff? Or were you some loner shut-in?”

Minato rests his chin on his hand. The girl makes a noise. It’s an excess of spit or something rattling in her throat. She shifts and drool starts trailing from her mouth. Minato stares at her, lip curling in disgust, then he gets to his feet and walks over to crouch before her. Coffee cup dangling between his knees in one hand, the other reaches up and uses his hoodie’s sleeve to wipe the spit from her chin.

“This is really fucking gross,” he complains, but he doesn’t stop. “How much of a fight do you put up every time the Shadows come for you? Or are you just kind of secretly hoping…?”

The way his arm presses against her, it upsets the small amount of balance her neck was providing and her head rolls onto her shoulder. He stares for a moment before taking pity on her and fixing it. He’s fallen asleep with his head angled like that before and it’s never comfortable.

“Hey,” he whispers, “how good are you at keeping secrets?”

Minato sits before her and crosses his legs. He takes another sip from his coffee. The caffeine’s not making him any less tired; all it’s doing is speeding up his heart. But it’s not like he’s about to stop drinking it.

“Don’t tell anyone but I don’t really want to be here.” Being here means fighting – with each other, with Shadows, with himself. He doesn’t want to fight and he definitely doesn’t want to lead. But he’s got no choice. “I mean, don’t get me wrong - they gave me the option to say no, but what kind of person would take it? Whatever else is wrong with me, I’ve still got a set of morals.”

The Lost girl, she makes no noise and blinks once. Minato stares. And stares and stares.

“What the hell are you doing?”

He looks over his shoulder. Shinjiro’s standing at the foot of the stairs with a brown paper bag in his arm, full of food.

“Making a friend,” Minato intones.

“Christ…”

He takes another sip of coffee. “You got anything in there I could give her? I don’t think she’s eaten for a while.”

Shinjiro frowns and shakes his head. “Just call the hotline. They’ll come pick her up, find her family.”

Minato makes a doubtful noise and turns back to her. He can hear Shinjiro shuffling and scraping his shoes against the concrete as he walks, then he appears at Minato’s side holding out a hand.

“C’mon, idiot, let’s get inside. It’s cold as hell out here and you’re gonna get sick if you keep sitting on the ground.”

“It’s not that cold,” Minato mumbles. Shinjiro’s hand is still there, so he tilts his head until he can’t see it, resting his cheek against his palm. The weight of his head smooshes his mouth to the side so his words come out a little slurred. “What if she doesn’t have any family?”

Shinjiro sighs so quietly he can barely hear it. “Does it matter? What can we do about it?”

Minato almost smiles. It’s nice that Shinjiro doesn’t bullshit, doesn’t offer any false confidence; he likes that about him. He likes that ‘we,’ too. He reaches up and takes the hand still being offered. Shinjiro makes to pull it away as soon as he’s on his feet, but Minato tightens his grip and won’t let him. Only two tugs and Shinjiro gives up, instead readjusting their fingers into something more comfortable.

“You know, if I couldn’t summon a Persona, I bet that would be me sitting there.”

“But it’s not. Stop thinking about unnecessary shit. Didn’t think I’d have to tell  _you_  that.”

Then Minato really does smile, which Shinjiro just looks confused about. He’s tugging on Minato’s hand again, halfway through saying something – what, Minato isn’t listening, he doesn’t know – but he interrupts whatever it is with an, “I like you.”

“You –” Shinjiro sighs again and turns his head away but his blush is plain as day. “I know that. You told me that before.”

“Yeah.” But it's important. But he doesn't say that.

Instead Minato shrugs and finally lets himself be led up the stairs, until Shinjiro stops on the top step and turns to look at him. There’s something tight about his face, something sad as he lets go of Minato’s hand and shifts his grip on the groceries. He pushes Minato’s hood back a little, brushes his bangs out of the way, and leans down to press a kiss to his forehead.

“I’m only gonna say this once, but you’re a fighter. Give yourself more credit.”

It’s not a compliment he feels he deserves but he closes his eyes and accepts it anyway. Up close, Shinjiro smells like nothing special; just laundry soap, deodorant, and whatever body wash he uses all mixing together to make a scent that’s him. A scent that Minato thinks he might equate with home if he knew what a home smelled like.

He turns his head as Shinjiro presses a second kiss to his cheek and his eyes fall on the girl. She still hasn’t moved at all.

“Let’s go inside,” Minato mumbles, lifting his hand to rest against Shinjiro’s jaw and rubbing his thumb against the faintest trace of stubble. “We should call that number. And… I guess I’ll let everyone know we're going to Tartarus tonight.”

“You sure you’re up for that? You look like shit.”

“Heh. I’ll be alright. The next full moon’s, what, on the 4th? That’s soon, so,” Minato shrugs and wears a sardonic smirk, “gotta be ready, right?”

Minato barely tries keeping the bitter listlessness out of his voice and Shinjiro must pick up on it because he grabs his hand again, firmer this time and with a frown. Minato half expects him to say some shit about sucking it up and persevering, it's what a fighter would do, but instead he's surprised by Shinjiro sighing and mumbling, “Look, just - just for tonight, we’ll stay in. You look dead on your feet, so… I’ll cook you something good for energy. Then we’ll just relax. Spend some time together or - or something.”

“Hmm.” It’s surprising to say the least but Minato's not about to put up a fight against an offer like that, so he smiles and nods. “I’d like that.”


	2. Chapter 2

There’s a Lost girl that’s been hanging around outside the dorm. She sits on the ground against the fence that runs along the shrubs. With the full moon approaching the Lost are everywhere, but this one keeps coming back and she’s a little worse every time. She’d been there during the last full moon too, but that time she’d been at least semi-capable of forming words. Now her laboured breathing is the only sign she’s not dead.

Minako ignores her.

Or tries to.

Coming home from volleyball practice, talking to Junpei after running into him by the corner store a block over, she catches sight of her for the third time this moon cycle. Junpei holds himself and shivers dramatically.

Creepy, he says.

It’s just not right, Minako laughs.

The words are said with a kind of cruelty she’s not used to hearing in her own voice. Even as she follows Junpei into the dorm, not looking back once, it twists inside her like she just swallowed a Shadow. To ignore it, she walks over to Fuuka sitting on the couch and presses a kiss to her cheek.

“Let’s go on a date tomorrow,” she says, smiling when Fuuka nods.

The exhaustion she can feel clawing at the back of her eyes can go ignored for another day. Giving in will only be letting it win and then it’ll overtake everything, so for now she points to Akihiko and challenges him to a run. Shinjiro’s yelling something about running too soon after eating, Aki just finished dinner, but it’s too late, they’re laughing and they’re out the door and it’s good. It’s fine. She can always count on her friends to keep herself busy.

This feeling, it’s one that the Lost aren’t capable of. Or one that they rejected. She’s not like them.

And she _can_ feel it, she knows she can, so however subdued it is, it’s there and that’s what matters.

It’s just hard sometimes. Like the next morning when she aches down to her bones and getting out of bed feels like climbing a mountain. She’s telling herself get up, get up, but there’s some invisible force keeping her down. Something stronger and more insidious than gravity could ever hope to be.

Then there’s a knock on her door and she’s blinking in the morning light.

“I came to see if you’re ready.”

That’s Fuuka’s voice.

“You’re eager,” Minako teases, rubbing her tired eyes. “It’s pretty early.”

“It’s after noon,” Fuuka says uncertainly.

Minako whips her blankets back and fumbles for her phone as if she could ever believe Fuuka would lie to her. 12:24pm. She swears with an angry voice just as unfamiliar as the cruel laughter and makes to get out of bed, but a hand on her shoulder pushes her back against the soft pillows.

“It’s okay,” Fuuka whispers, climbing in next to her. “This is okay for today.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

It’s not a kindness she feels she deserves but she closes her eyes and accepts it anyway. Up close, Fuuka smells like candy; something soft and sweet. Perfume that she put on for their date. A scent that Minako wants to wrap herself in forever, so she pulls her close and nestles her face in the crook of her neck.

Later that day when Fuuka’s trying her hardest to help Shinjiro with dinner, Minako wanders downstairs wearing sweatpants and a hoodie. Her hair’s a mess, she needs a shower, and Junpei says some shit about her girl levels dropping – until she gives him a noogie and won’t relent until he admits she’s the cutest. After Fuuka of course, she adds once she catches her girlfriend’s eye.

The Lost girl, when Minako goes out to sit on the front step and drink her coffee, she’s still there. The two of them watch strangers pass for a while, no words or nonsensical groans pass between them until Minako finishes her coffee and says, “You’re creeping everyone out, you know.”

She puts her empty cup down beside her and stretches her arms above her head. It leaves her feeling dizzy, so she rests her head on her knees and closes her eyes.

“You should smile. People like it when you smile.”

The Lost girl makes a hollow noise on an inhale and Minako laughs.

“Yeah. I guess that’s not really an option for you anymore, is it?”

She lifts her head and rubs her hands over her face as if hoping it’ll iron out any weariness. It doesn’t work of course, but she does end up poking herself in the eye and the resulting jolt is almost the same thing. When she lowers her hands, there are no more people on the street. No cars drive by. She looks left and right, but it’s just her and the Lost girl as far as she can see. The abrupt change may as well be the clock striking midnight.

She sticks her hand in her pocket for her MP3 player, but she left it in her room. Rubbing her hands up and down her thighs, she lets out a slow breath. The silence is making her itch. This buzzing at the base of her brain that won’t go away.

“I wonder what kind of life you had,” she says to fill the silence. “Was it so bad that this is preferable?”

As she speaks, the Lost girl makes a noise. It’s an excess of spit or something rattling in her throat. She shifts and drool starts trailing from her mouth. Minako stares at her, face blank, then gets to her feet and walks over to crouch before her. One hand cups her cheek to hold her head steady and the other reaches up and uses her hoodie’s sleeve to wipe the spit from her chin.

“C’mon,” Minako laughs, “don’t be like this.” She stares for a moment, the smile slipping from her face. “You’re not one of the ones that stay Lost even after the Shadow’s defeated, so there’s gotta be some fight left in you.”

She sits down, crossing her legs.

“I know it’s hard,” she says softly, “fighting all the time, but… that’s what life is. It’s one big fight forward and it’s hard but being miserable doesn’t do anything and it just brings everyone else down with you, so you just smile and…”

She shakes her head and looks away, no smile on her face at all.

“Promise you won’t tell anyone, but I’m kinda jealous. Giving up like this.”

She doesn’t say she would if she could, because she doesn’t know if that’s true or not. This dorm and the people in it, they’re some of the most important things – or the only things in her life. To keep them she has to fight. She has to fight every day – with Shadows, with herself, her body and mind. Accepting the position of Leader meant accepting the burdens that come with it.

“Being here is the right thing to do, so it’s what I’m doing,” she says, and she wonders which of them she’s trying to convince. “I have to know that I care. I need to know that I’m _capable_ of caring. If…”

Minako sighs.

“Sorry. That’s not your problem. You know, the next full moon is soon,” she says. “If – _when_ – when you get better, if you remember this, you should come find me. We’ll – I don’t know – go for some karaoke or something. It’ll be fun, I promise.”

The front door to the dorm opens.

“There you are,” Fuuka says. She makes her way down the stairs, glancing between Minako and the Lost girl. Whatever she thinks about the scene, it’s kept off her face. “What are you up to?”

“Making a friend,” Minako smiles.

“I see…” Fuuka comes to stand beside her, resting a hand atop her head and idly toying with her hair. “Dinner’s ready whenever you are.”

“Mm…” Minako wraps an arm around Fuuka’s leg and rests her head against her thigh. “Is there enough for her?”

“It would be better to call the hotline, don’t you think? They’ll take better care of her than we could.”

For a moment Minako doesn’t move. Then she jumps to her feet and brushes off her pants. “You’re right. I’ll call them before we eat.”

She smiles at Fuuka but Fuuka doesn’t smile back. She reaches up and brushes Minako’s bangs away from her face and there’s something gentle and too knowing in her eyes. Minako grabs the hand now touching her cheek and begins pulling her back up the stairs, grabbing the empty mug as she passes. But with her hands full she can’t open the door so she tries to let go of Fuuka’s hand, only to find she won’t let that happen.

Minako looks back at her. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Fuuka smiles. “You have a good heart, you know?”

Minako clenches her jaw and can feel her face tighten, but she quickly puts on another smile. “You think so, huh? How do you know I’m not deceiving you?”

“Minako, you’re not that good of an actor.”

Minako makes a hurt noise and does her best to look dramatically affronted. Fuuka starts laughing and blushing like she can’t believe her own nerve and soon Minako does too. She wraps the arm carrying the coffee mug around Fuuka’s shoulders and pulls her into a hug, giving her hand a squeeze.

Between kisses to Fuuka’s cheek, she says, “If it’s you saying it, then I’m willing to believe.”


End file.
